Changes
by Kitty Alexandrova
Summary: A lot has happened since the end of the second wizarding war, and no-one seems to be able to cope with the changes. Dark!Harry, several different pairings.


**Changes**

_By Kitty Alexandrova._

**Chapter One**

Struggling to pull herself from his harsh grip, tears began to fall down her pail cheeks.

"Harry, no!" She whimpered, trying to twist from his hold. "Harry, please, you're hurting me!"

A growl escaped her husband's lips as he bit down on her neck. What was once an erotic action became violent as he marked her, drawing blood from her veins.

"Harry!"

"Enjoying this, bitch?" Harry snarled, attacking her breasts fiercely.

"No, Harry, stop!"

His hand snaked out to hit her cheek, effectively silencing her. Ginny cried silently, her body slumping beneath him as he took her and claimed her as his own.

His movements were fast, hard, painful, she knew she would be bruised by the morning, and she already ached as he thrust into her. Biting back a scream, she felt his release inside her, a look of pleasure drifting over his face, causing him to close his bright green eyes. Rolling to her side, he let his right hand drift to her stomach, stroking her soft skin.

"How was that, baby?" He questioned, giving her a small smile. Ginny pushed herself away from him, gathering the white velvet throw around her naked body. Sobbing, she rushed to the en-suite bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her.

Keeping the throw wrapped around her slender body, Ginny looking into the large mirror, holding onto the edges of the porcelain-white sink for support. Her lips were red, smeared with her own blood, her neck bruised yellow and purple, a small cut millimetres away from the vein. Drawing the confidence to inspect the rest of her body, she dropped the blanket to the floor, gasping at her own reflection for the first time since her wedding day. Then, she had been amazed at her beauty, what Luna had done to her hair, the dress that the Patil twins had designed, now, she was horrified. Scratches covered her stomach, arms and inner thighs, turning, she saw they covered her back as well. Deep, red marks made by Harry's nails as her brutalised her. His hands had left angry bruises on her hips where he had gripped her tightly. Biting her lip as she saw the blood between her thighs, the tears worsened. Blood. He had made her bleed. Their first time had been painless, she hadn't bled, much to the surprise of Hermione and Luna, but now, two years later, Harry had made her bleed. Backing away from her reflection, Ginny climbed into the shower, turning the water up as hot as she could stand. Attempting to wash away the pain and betrayal she felt was useless, but the heat soothed her aching body, if only slightly.

Harry watched her run from him, tears pouring down her face. She stumbled slightly, as if her legs could not carry her, but she made it to the bathroom. The small click of the door lock sounded, echoing in his ears.

"Fuck." He sighed, moving himself into a sitting position. He had grown in the four years since the war, physically and mentally. He was toned, muscular, though not to an extreme. His hair cut shorter than it had been, but still long enough for his characteristic mess of raven hair, and his eyes had grown brighter now that the burden of his task had been removed. Running a hand through his hair, Harry stood, not bothering to cover his large manhood. He heard the shower start as he rifled through a pile of papers he had recently come to write. A journal, as such, bulked out by newspaper clippings and photos.

Finding an old, worn quill, he sat at the wooden writing desk, waiting for his wife to calm. He didn't know what he had done wrong; she had been the one to suggest experimenting with sex. For him, the experience had been mind-blowing, if a little dysfunctional. Ginny had begged him to take charge, and he had, but she had pleaded for more, wanting him to be more like the men in the muggle erotica she read.

So what had gone wrong? He had done everything she had asked, and it had been fine the very first time. He looked over the parchments, searching for the one dated 5 June, two months previously. That had been the first time they had truly experimented with the world of S&M. Harry had written about it, documenting his thoughts on the new things they tried.

He had found he was a sadist, and relished in the thought of seeing his wife tied up and begging, an idea he had brought to life. She had loved it, Harry remembered, she had begged him to take her, and when he had, she had screamed his name, asking for more. Since the war, life had become almost normal, and sex was the only way to experience that old excitement that Harry had relished in.

He missed that, the excitement and danger that had been his life. He had thrived on it, loved living on the edge, facing death was a challenge for him, and he wanted it again. Not that anyone knew. Harry's little secret. His craving for the unknown and unpredictable. He had considered telling Ginny, or Hermione, but he knew they wouldn't understand. They were happy with this life. Their boring, predictable, unchanging life. Hermione was expecting her first child and was unexplainably happy about it.

Ron….

Harry and Ron had drifted apart since the final battle. Ron had blamed Harry for Fred's death, lashing out at him. Words had been said that could never be taken back, no matter how much Ron had apologised and grovelled. They remained civil, looking out for each other when they had to, up keeping the public appearance of the unity of the Golden Trio.  
So much had changed…

"Hello, Mr Weasley." Cherry purred, pouting seductively.

"Hey, C. How are you?" He replied, sitting on the large black leather sofa and slipping off his jacket, "I'm a little upset, Mr Weasley, you haven't been to see me in a while. I thought you might have found someone to…. Service you." Cherry sat at the centre of a king size bed, breasts almost escaping from her black bustier.

"You know that would never happen, Cherry." George lied, moving to her side. "You're the only one for me." He liked to flatter them, make them feel special, because most men would simply abuse them. None of the women knew they were one of many. And no one knew he met with them in the small houses of the back streets. "How long are you for, Mr Weasley?" Cherry questioned, smoothing her short leather skirt.

"Just an hour, I have to get back to the shop." He handed her a small bag of money, which she counted before placing it in a draw in the dressing table.

Standing in front of her most frequent client, Cherry began to undress.

Pulling a pale blue towel around her slim body, Ginny gathered the courage to face her husband. It wasn't his fault, really, she'd wanted it. Asked for it. He wasn't to blame for getting caught up in the moment. How was he to know that her cries were not from pleasure, but desperation?  
She had to talk to him, and she knew it.

Inhaling slowly, she opened the door. Harry didn't look up from the desk, where he sat writing intently. The silence was broken only by the scratch of his quill against parchment. Ginny cleared her throat, only to be ignored. Harry got so absorbed in his writing, writing what seemed to be pages and pages at a time. Pages that Ginny couldn't read. She had tried, damn she had tried, but the letters faded the second she picked up the sheet, as if they hadn't been there at all. Whatever Harry was writing about, he wanted to keep it a secret.

"Harry?" Ginny asked tentatively from across the room, reaching for her maple wand. Within seconds she was dressed in pale blue dress, decorated with tiny white flowers and embroidery around the hem, and a pile of dark clothes landed on top of the parchment Harry had in front of him. He looked, his brow furrowed.

"What?"

"We need to talk." Ginny said sharply, walking past him and slamming the door behind her.

"Hmmm… Mr Weasley, you don't seem as enthusiastic as you normally are." Cherry crooned, pushing her naked body against his. A thin sheet of sweat covered her breasts, stomach and lower back, but her heavy makeup stayed mostly intact, only her rouged lips smudged.

"I have a lot on my mind." George replied darkly, staring at the yellowing ceiling above him.

"You can tell me, Georgie." Cherry fluttered her eyelids sexily, biting her lip gently.

"Do not call me that." He growled, pushed her away and reaching for his trousers in one swift movement. He was dressed with seconds and reaching for his wand, leaving the prostitute to ponder his sudden anger.

Once he was out of the building, George disapparated, appearing outside The Hogs Head. He was in need of a stiff drink. Desperately in need of one. He was met by Aberforth, who immediately handed him a jug of strongly matured Firewhisky. The small backstreet bar was famous for its strong, illegally tampered ale, but it was exactly what the patrons wanted. Something strong, that will make you pass out within half the time that it would have in the Three Broomsticks. It was a sad man's paradise, and George fit in perfectly.

Losing his brother hadn't affected him well, slipping slowly into the abyss of what could only be described as depression; he had refused to accept that Fred, his twin, was gone... Sex had become some kind of release, a distraction from life. It had worked, for the most part, but lately he seemed to be becoming more and more distant… From his family, from his business, from everything. Only one thing kept his grounded, the only person that had never left his side. He loved her, but she didn't know. George was scared of the commitment that telling her would result in. He didn't need that; no one could ever fill the gap that his brother had left, so why try? George Weasley was a lone wolf, and always would be.

Having pulled on a pair of dark, expensive jeans and a grey shirt that he left open, show-casing his toned body, Harry made his way down the wooden staircase. Ginny waited for him in the spacious living room, legs tucked under herself on the red sofa. Long ago, when she was younger, less experienced, her heart would skip a beat at the mere sight of Harry. Those few months with him in her fifth year had been the very best of her life, and those without him were hell, but they had worked it out in the end. Marrying him was the only she could ever have hoped for, and she'd fulfilled that wish at a small ceremony in Godric's Hollow, with Hermione and her young niece as her bridesmaids. Harry had looked so handsome that day, smiling down the aisle as she walked towards him.

"Sit down, Harry." She said when he sauntered into the room, grinning cockily at her. For a man so smart, he could be stupidly oblivious to problems within their relationship.

"Don't forget who's in charge here, Ginny." He replied, but he sat anyway, winking at her.

"You hurt me, Harry. You scared me."

Harry laughed, realising that they were continuing with their game. Pushing himself up from the sofa, he pounced on her, pinning her to the seat, drawing a panicked gasp from her lips.

"Harry, no!" Ginny yelled her voice breaking as she tried to fight him off. Though strong, she was no match for the muscled Seeker. "Harry James Potter! Get your fucking hands off of me!"

Halting his movements, Harry looked down at his wife, who currently appeared tiny beneath him. Getting to his feet, he laughed as she scampered away from him, one hand on her left hip while the other pointed to the door. "Get out!"

Harry laughed once more, loving the turn that their game had unexpectedly taken. Sauntering towards her slowly, his eyes dark, he was surprised when she raised her hand, drawing it across his cheek in a harsh slap.

"I said get the fuck out, Harry! GET OUT OF THE FUCKING HOUSE!" Ginny screamed, pointing her wand at him threateningly. Having left his own in their room, he was practically defenceless.

"Calm down, Ginny." Harry said calmly, clueless about the reason behind her anger.

"Get out Harry." She replied, just as calmly, lowering her wand slightly. Sensing defeat, Harry stepped forwards hesitantly.

Taking him by surprise, Ginny one of the Bat Bogey Hex's she was most famous for, sending him crashing into the door with a spell he couldn't name. Landing on the damp, newly cut grass of their front garden, he jumped back to his feet and ran at the door, but Ginny slammed it in face, hence locking him out of the home he had paid for. Without his wand, he now couldn't enter. What a stupid idea it had been to ask Hermione to protect their home with a variety of complex spells, he thought bitterly. Mumbling incoherently, he fastened his shirt as he walked out of the protective boundaries of his home. Inside, Ginny had sunk to the floor against the front door, unable to fight a wave of tears. The loud crack told her Harry had apparated. He was gone.

"RONALD!" Hermione screamed, blowing out pants of breath quickly, her left hand placed over her stomach while the other held the edge of the table, keeping her steady. A sharp pain flashed across her stomach, as it had a few minutes ago. "RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"  
Running into the room, barefoot, shirtless, with the zip of his battered jeans still down, he looked petrified. Hermione's face was read, and she seemed to be hyperventilating.

"Hermione? Are you okay" Ron grabbed her hand, placing his arm around her waist to keep her steady.

"We need to get to the hospital." She said between breaths, still clutching her stomach, "the baby is coming. It's coming now, Ronald."

"Oh shit." He exclaimed, yanking up the zip and grabbing a creased top from the washing basket beside Hermione. He didn't care if it was dirty. There were more important things to worry about. His wife was going into labour. "Hold onto me."

"Ron, no. We can't apparate! What happens if the baby doesn't go with us?" Hermione yelled at him through gritted teeth.

"Its fine, the doctor told you that. Just relax and I'll guide us. Trust me." Ron said soothingly.

"You only just passed your bloody test, Ronald. And that was only luck. You normally get splinched!" Hermione shouted, but Ron grabbed her arms and twisted on the spot before had chance to stop him.

Landing in the centre of Saint Mungo's reception area, Hermione swayed, almost falling before a trainee medic rushed up behind her and caught her.

"This way, ma'am." He said quietly, leading her aside while a slightly dazed Ron followed.


End file.
